


Stitched Tight

by LavedaVida



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enjolras is a stress knitter, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 14:17:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavedaVida/pseuds/LavedaVida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Knitting helps me better than talking," Enjolras said, turning to look out the window rather than look at his friend.</p>
<p>"But you know you can talk to me, right? I'm here for you, Enjolras."</p>
<p>"I know you are, Courfeyrac. Believe me, I know," he whispered. He watched the rain pound the windows, the sound matching the pounding that echoed through his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitched Tight

_In._

_Around._

_Through._

_Over._

_In._

_Around._

_Through._

_Over._

_In._

_Around--_

"Enjolras?"

Enjolras jerked out of his reverie, nearly dropping the needles in his hands. "What?" he asked, looking up at Courfeyrac.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine."

"Because your knitting is unusually tight. I mean, I know that you're already a tight knitter, but--"

Enjolras looked down at the knitting in his hands and winced. He hadn't even noticed how tight it was, but there was indeed a visible difference from the rows he'd knitted the day before, and the rows he had just knitted.

"I'm just stressed," Enjolras said, glancing back down at the yarn.

"I can tell," said Courfeyrac. "Want to talk about it?"

"Knitting helps me better than talking," Enjolras said, turning to look out the window rather than look at his friend.

"But you know you can talk to me, right? I'm here for you, Enjolras."

"I know you are, Courfeyrac. Believe me, I know," he whispered. He watched the rain pound the windows, the sound matching the pounding that echoed through his head.

"Will you talk to me about it, then, since knitting doesn't seem to be doing it for you right now?"

"It's just a headache. And too much work to do. And I'm worried about Grantaire because he didn't come to the meeting last night and he's not answering my texts. And there's no coffee in the house but it was too wet to leave this morning. And I can't find any ibuprofen and this headache won't go away, and--"

Courfeyrac sighed, and eased the knitting out of Enjolras fingers. "Easy there, tiger. You look like you're about to break your needles, you're gripping them so tightly. I can tell you for a fact that Grantaire is okay-- he's not texting you back because Bossuet dropped his phone in a pint of beer two nights ago, and he didn't come to the meeting last night because he was working late on his final project. And there's ibuprofen in my room, I'll go get you some in a sec.  _And_  you just didn't know that there's coffee under the sink because that's where Combeferre put it last week when everyone came over because he didn't want them drinking  _all_  our coffee, and nobody remembered to tell you where it was."

Enjolras nodded slightly. "Okay," he murmured. "Okay."

"Do you want help with your work?"

"I'm fine," said Enjolras. "It's not too much." He ran his long, delicate fingers through his mass of curly hair. "Really, Courf. I'm fine."

Courf smiled at his friend, and squeezed his knee. "Go take a nap, Enjolras. You look absolutely exhausted. I'll go get you some ibuprofen and then make you some coffee when you get up, okay?"

"I can't--"

"This is non-negotiable. Up you get," said Courfeyrac, shaking his head. "You are a stubborn ass sometimes, but R'll kill me if I let you snap another pair of needles in half and nearly impale yourself in the eye with the pieces again."

Enjolras allowed Courfeyrac to haul him to his feet, stumbling slightly after his feet had fallen asleep from having been seated on the worn red couch for so long. The rain continued to assault the windows, and he leaned on Courfeyrac, one hand clutching his head, the other, his friend's shoulder.

Courfeyrac helped Enjolras limp into his bedroom, and didn't even bother to turn the lights on before pushing him into bed. "I'll go get you some ibuprofen. Then you can nap, okay?"

Enjolras nodded, rubbing his temples and glaring at the dark ceiling. Courfeyrac returned a moment later, pushing open the door and throwing a harsh shard of light across the bedroom. "Here," he said, softly, leaving a glass of water and the small pill on the bedside table.

"Thanks," Enjolras murmured. Swallowing the pill, he leaned back on his pillows and tugged a blanket over himself.

~~~

When Enjolras awoke, he found that something was wrapped around his back. "Grantaire?" he whispered.

"Hi," Grantaire whispered. "Courf called Ep and asked her to pass on the message that you were having a bad day, and that you were upset that I didn't come last night."

"You always come," Enjolras murmured, sleep still slurring his words.

"I know, I'm sorry. This project is just really big. I thought that the message would get passed on."

"I was worried."

Grantaire brushed his lips across Enjolras' temple. "That's enough talk of me, my dear Apollo. Are you all right? Courf said you nearly snapped your needles in half, and--"

"There were just a lot of bad things happening all at once. It's better now," said Enjolras. "Courf found ibuprofen and apparently there's coffee in the house, and now you've showed up... mm, yes, it's much better now."

"You big sap," whispered Grantaire, smiling into Enjolras hair. Enjolras snuggled back against Grantaire. 

"What time is it?"

"Past midnight," Grantaire replied.

"What?!"

"You slept for seven hours, dear."

"How long have you been here?"

"Six."

"Oh."

"I wanted to stay with you at least until you woke up, but... I'm not leaving now," whispered Grantaire, into the dark.

"Are you sure? I know that you have things to do--"

"Did you sleep at all for the past four nights since I've been here?"

"Well... I was busy."

"I'm staying, and you're going back to sleep. And if you're too awake now, then you're going to knit yourself back to being calm, and  _then_ you're going to sleep. You're not getting out of this one, Apollo."

"I'll try and go back to sleep," grumbled Enjolras, leaning his head against Grantaire's chest. He stayed silent for a moment, and then... "Hey R?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for staying with me."

"Anytime, Enjolras. Anytime."

A few more minutes passed, Enjolras' mind flitting from thing to thing, his gaze darting around his room, settling on book titles and lampshades. Finally, he spoke again. "I can't sleep."

"Knitting it is, then. I got it from Courf before I came in. It's next to the bed," whispered Grantaire, smiling again. 

Enjolras switched on the bedside light, and grabbed the knitting from beside the bed.

"What're you making?" asked Grantaire, watching intently as Enjolras' deft fingers unrolled a section of yarn from the ball, and the needles started to click.

"A hat. Jehan's always looking for new beanies, and I figured... well, I found the perfect design for him."

"You should just teach the boy to knit himself," Grantaire laughed.

"Probably," Enjolras replied, running his fingers across the stitches before he started a new row, adjusting them to his liking. "But I'm always happy to knit you guys stuff. I never know what to do if I don't have a project."

"Yes, you get terribly flustered if you don't have anything to do with your hands. I always liked knitting. I haven't done it in years, though," mused Grantaire.

"You knit?" Enjolras asked, looking away from the stitches in surprise.

"Used to. In high school. I'd ah-- I used to knit penises and hide them in people's lockers and backpacks."

Enjolras laughed aloud. "Did you yarnbomb, too?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Here and there," Grantaire said, with a wink.

Enjolras looked over at his boyfriend. His surprise was still etched across his face. "You never mentioned that you could knit. I'm doing it constantly, but you never said."

"Eh, I put it down years ago. I could always start again, though. And I always know what you're talking about when you talk about yarn overs and dropping stitches and cables and fair isle, but it never occurred to you that perhaps I know how to do it as well?"

Enjolras smiled, sheepishly. "No?"

"Dork. Go back to your knitting, I'll be quiet now. I know that you prefer quiet while you're trying to clear your mind with the repetition."

"Thank you," Enjolras said, softly. He pressed a quick kiss to Grantaire's lips before leaning back against the headboard and starting to knit again.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://www.the-strangest-sea.tumblr.com)


End file.
